


Behind the Closed Doors of Despair

by just_another_classic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 08:57:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7354354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_classic/pseuds/just_another_classic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As she struggles with the emotions of ordering Rumple across the town line the night prior, Belle has a surprising visitor. Captain Book BroTP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the Closed Doors of Despair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sambethe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/gifts).



> Dedicated to and inspired by @sambethe, who sends me pictures of libraries and books, and encourages my love of Captain Book.
> 
> Note: This could be considered either pro- or anti-Rumbelle, depending on the perspective. So, uh, if you feel strongly either way on the relationship, this is your heads up.

It’s the day after she’s done the unthinkable – ordering Rumple over the town line, and then turning her back on him by walking away. She’s in the library, her own safe haven from the pitying stares of Storybrooke’s residents, hiding amongst what feels like the only friends she has left. It’s moments like these that she misses her mother the most. Her mother would know what to say, or at the very least, have a book in mind that might salve the ache in her chest. It’s as if she is drowning in a sea of her own emotions, overwhelmed by experiencing so many painful feelings at once.

Hurt. Betrayal. Anger. Guilt. Fear. And love, still love, but a hollow sort of love that she wants to both hold onto and go away. 

Belle knows she should talk to someone, probably Archie, but all she really wants to do is hide away. So she does. Unfortunately, someone disagrees, because the she hears the library door creak open, and the shuffling of feet as someone steps inside. She tenses, because she swears she locked the door when she came in this morning. In fact, she knows she did.

Behind the stacks that she had been crying, she attempts to peek out at just who might be breaking and entering into her sanctuary. Her heart skips thinking it might be Rumple back to apologize, or worse, to cause harm for her “betrayal”. She curses the fact that she left her phone on the front desk, leaving her unable to call anyone for help. But she’s gotten herself out of worse scrapes than this, whatever this may be, and has hope she can do it again. 

She exhales deeply, a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, when she recognizes the figured dressed head-to-toe black awkwardly swaying by the checkout desk.

“Hook.”

She wonders why he is here. While it’s true that she saved his life last night, they’re hardly friends, and she doesn’t expect graciousness from him. He did, after all, try to kill her before. Her stomach drops at the thought that he could be here to gloat about how he was always right about the blackness in Rumple’s soul. He might be acting heroic now, but something tells her that the pirate could make exceptions for the man that stole his hand and killed his love. Knowing all of this, Belle still pushes herself forward. She is not one to back down or run away, not even for this. 

“The door was locked, you know. Most people take that to mean ‘do not enter’,” Belle tells him when she comes around the stacks to face him. He looks sheepish at her reprimand, scratching behind his ear in what clearly is a nervous tick. 

“Pirate, love,” he says, as if that explains his presence. Something crosses his face when he looks at her, and Belle wonders about how she must appear to him. She’s still dressed in the previous night’s clothing, too exhausted both physically and emotionally to shred anything more than her shoes and jewelry before falling into bed and into a fitful sleep. She also doesn’t need a mirror to know that her eyes must be red and swollen, and her cheeks splotchy from tears. She looks a certifiable mess.

“What do you want, Hook?”

“You saved my life last night,” he tells her, not exactly answering her question. His blue eyes meet hers, and she can see the conflict there, a storm brewing that she can’t quite place. “After everything I’ve done to you, you saved my life. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough.”

“It’s what heroes do,” Belle explains lamely. For so long, she’s dreamed of being a hero. It’s why she left with Rumple in the first place. She just doesn’t understand why heroism seemingly comes with so much pain.

“Aye, but if the roles were reversed, I might not have been able to do what you did.”

“Save me?”

“Send the person I love over the town line.”

“Oh.”

Belle doesn’t know how to further respond to that, so she doesn’t. She wraps her arms around herself, caging in the emotions she is feeling and trying to hold herself together. She really doesn’t want to talk more about last night. It hurts far too much. But Hook is still standing there, look at her with those probing blue eyes that make her feel as if he’s staring into her soul.

“When Milah died – “

“Stop,” she raises her hands and shakes her head. Despite all her anger with Rumple, she doesn’t want to hear more about his past misdeeds.

“When she died, I let myself become consumed with grief. I had no one, so I allowed my pain to consume me,” Hook huffs out, his words quick, trying to get her to listen. She keeps her eyes shut, trying so hard to keep the tears from spilling out. She hears him step closer, can feel him next to her. He could touch her, if he so wanted. He doesn’t. “You are an exceptional and kind woman, Belle. I ask that you don’t make the same mistakes as I. Please don’t let your grief consume you.”

“Rumple didn’t die,” she shouts with a fierceness she didn’t know she had inside her. She opens her eyes, not caring if the pirate sees her cry. “He’s still out there. I made him leave. He isn’t dead.”

“No, I suppose he isn’t,” Hook says softly and not without a hint of anger, “but I imagine it still feels as if a part of you has died. It’s grief all the same.”

Belle nods meekly. She’s beginning to feel her defenses weaken a bit. “I does feel that way, like a part of me is missing.”

“It probably always will, I’m afraid. It will numb with time, of course, but it will always be there.”

“How optimistic.”

“The Charming family optimism hasn’t rubbed off on me quite yet,” he says with a broken, nervous sort of laugh that she can’t help but reciprocate. She feels guilty at that, laughing with Hook the day after she sent her husband over the town line. It’s almost a form of betrayal, acting friendly with a man Rumple so despised, one who hated him back.

“Shouldn’t you be with them, the Charmings? After everything, I imagine Emma wouldn’t want to let you out of her sight,” she asks. It’s what she would do if she saw Rumple’s heart in another man’s hand – latch onto him and hold him in her arms. It’s partially what she wants to do now, and she hates herself a tiny bit for it.

“Swan knows where I am,” Hook answers her with a shrug in a poor attempt to remain cool. His face betrays him, though, eyes lighting up at the mention of her name, a light blush crossing his cheeks. He loves her, that much Belle knows. She’s envious of Emma, in a way. Envious that Emma somehow managed to do with Hook what she could never do with Rumple. Maybe this why Emma is the Savior, and she is simply Belle. “We’re having dinner tonight, if you would like to accompany us.”

She shakes her head. “You need your time together. Besides, I really don’t feel like being around anyone.”

“You still shouldn’t be alone,” he says, and he sounds so earnest that it hurts. Belle’s starting to think that she’s been wrong about him all this time. She once called his heart black and vile, but he’s the one standing before her, not Rumple. She doesn’t know how she could ever be so wrong about everything.

“I know. I hear what you are saying, but I need time,” she explains. She needs time to heal, to strengthen her resolve, to simply stop hurting so much. She knows that Emma wouldn’t push her, she’s not that kind of person, but Belle needs time to simply be. She hopes Hook understands.

He seems to, because he nods at her suggestion. “Well, when you are ready, feel free to seek me out for a drink. It’s been known that rum helps with this sort of matter.”

“Somehow I think it would make things worse,” she tells him with a self-deprecating laugh, thinking back to her time as Lacey. She cringes at the memories, but appreciates the pirate captain’s sentiments. “Thank you for reaching out.”

Hook does that thing again with his hand an ear, and briefly looks away. “I made a vow that I would prevent the Crocodile from destroying any more lives. That includes you, my dear.”

Belle feels annoyance at that. She knows she shouldn’t, but it’s another reminder of the past that she would very much like to forget. “It all comes back to revenge for you, doesn’t it?”

“Aye, a bit. I won’t pretend that I’m not happy he’s gone,” Hook concedes, “but I also know the loneliness of losing the person you love. It doesn’t bring me any joy to know that your heart is collateral damage.”

“That’s a change,” she comments bitterly. She hasn’t forgotten the feel of a bullet piercing her, or the fear of the many way he attempted to hurt her. To Hook’s credit he looks a bit ashamed this time, far more than when he last apologized.

“Aye, it is.”

They stand in silence for a few moments. There’s a gulf of history between them, and Belle knows they’re both lingering on that fact. Yet, despite it all, he is here in an effort to ensure she is safe, or at the very least, not grieving alone. It’s overwhelming trying to process it all: Rumple’s lies, the crumbling of her marriage, and now Hook acting kind.

“I think I would like to be alone right now,” she says, breaking the quiet. This time, Hook does not fight her on it. He looks at her for a long time, but he backs away to the door.

He stops at the door before he exits and turns to her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I may come back to the library in the near future. The fairies are still trapped in the hat, and it is my hope that these halls hold a tome that may be of service. I imagine you can be of assistance, if you so desire.”

Belle can’t tell if he’s offering because he thinks it will keep her busy, or if he truly needs her help. Either way, it’s another call to fix the mess that Rumple left in this town, and Belle does so want to fix everything. Maybe saving the fairies could alleviate some of her guilt at her unknowing complicity. “I would like that.”

Hook grins, truly grins, and nods at her before he exits the library with a flourish. She follows him to the door and locks the library from the inside. She still doesn’t want any visitors, and it’s likely that no one other than the pirate would wish to break in.

She doesn’t understand Captain Hook. It’s another thing to add to the list of facets of her life she can no longer comprehend. One such example is the strange new sense of sadness she feels with Hook’s absence, and how he somehow managed to make her feel less alone than before.

Belle takes a deep breath and steels herself for what it to come. Her road ahead is full of uncertainty, that much she knows, but maybe it’s not as solitary as she thought before.


End file.
